The Pity Train is Pulling into the Station

The pity train is pulling into the station and I’m going to get off.  I’m done with it.  I can’t say that the ride has been fun but at least it has been short.  I’m ready to put away the chocolate chips (and save them for the next time I want to bake cookies) and the bourbon.  It’s time to get my head out of my ass and make some things happen.  You are welcome to join me.
  

I’ve had a bad day.  That’s not right.  I’ve had a bad few days (well more than a few but I’m not counting anymore).  I’m ready to put the indecision behind me, the doubt, the stress and get on my way to being the person I’m supposed to be.  She’s in there.  She’s been in there for a long, long time and she’s making her presence known.  I’d stay out of her way if I were you.
Because she knows what she wants and she knows how to get it.  She knows all she has to do is the work.  And she is so tired of life passing her by and “waiting” for her turn.  Her turn is now and she’s taking over.
Don’t get me wrong.  The first thing she has to do is put God back in charge.  She knows that.  But sometimes other personalities think they can do it on their own.  She doesn’t want to name any names but they know who they are and one of them might be typing this (you bitch – and I say that with the fondest feelings).  So God is the guy.  He is most definitely in charge.
But, here we go.  Absolutely, positively no more whining about my body.  None.  I’ve earned this body I have.  And I knew when I was 25 and sitting on the couch eating an entire bag of Doritos that it would catch up with me.  I knew it when I was in grade school and absolutely refused to compete in the relay races because I was too slow was just an excuse.  And quit blaming my PE teacher because she never taught me how to breathe while I ran.  Get over it.  You’re old, you’re fat (fluffy), and you’re out of shape.  They told you that things would start sagging and they have.  I think it’s time that I came to appreciate that I was still alive and shut up about it.  Or, do something about it.  Yeah, I know it hurts to walk.  But at least I can walk.  So do it.  Even if it’s for a little while a day.  It won’t kill me.  Not doing it might kill me.  And I absolutely refuse to ride through Walmart on one of those scooter buggies.
Come to terms with my career.  This is the career I have chosen.  Quit looking for the next thing that will keep me entertained for a minute.  If I didn’t know better I would say that I have ADD.  And I probably do.  I’m bi-polar too.  But, keep on doing the work.  The more I  do the more i get to do.  So maintain.  Grow.  Follow the business plan.  I know what needs to be done.  The biggest problem I have is that I don’t think anyone else will think that I’m as good as I think I am.  Guess what?  There are people who think I’m better than I think I am.  And they’ll tell people that.  So, quit ducking my head and being embarrassed with how good or bad a job I do.  I’ve been doing what I do pretty much solo for 6 years.  And I’m still here.  That’s saying something.  And if i don’t like it then I can change it.  “You have always had the power.”  And quit second guessing.  God’s the one who put me here.
Give me a break.  Literally.  Give it.  I don’t have to be  all things to all people.  Yes, I am a farmer’s wife but I don’t work the farm, never have.  And I don’t know how to work the farm.  So, quit acting like the farm is going to fail every year.  That adds too much stress to my life.  Let the farmer worry about that.  He’s really good at worrying.  Don’t get sucked into it because it’s always something.  Every year we’re going to lose the farm.  And we haven’t lost it in 20 years.  Yes, this year might be the year it actually happens but the thing I should worry about more than the weather is what’s going to happen if something happens to the farmer.  I guess I’ll have to throw it back to God and believe that he has it.  With a little help from St. Isidore.
And I know that I’m a mother.  And I love being a mother.  Nothing makes me happier than being a mother, except being a grandmother.  But I need to give myself a break.  My children are mostly grown.  I have one left.  I have raised them right.  They have all found Jesus and a life they want to live.  Half of them have their own families.  I can’t fix their problems.  I don’t want to fix their problems.  They don’t want me to fix their problems.  But they do need a sounding board.  And I’m good at that.  As long as I realize that I can’t fix it then I won’t stress about it.  Of course I’ll worry about them, every day of my life.  But I know that God will take care of them and His Mother will be there for them even though sometimes I can’t be.
The same is true for my community and my family and friends.  I can only do what I can do.  That’s it.  I have got to quit walking in like superwoman and stepping up to all that needs to be done.  There is such a thing as waiting for someone to ask for help.  So wait.  I need to wait for them to ask and then decide if I can help.  I don’t have to do it all.  It’s okay to say no.  I’ve heard of people who actually do it.
Stop living in a fantasy world.  Quit pretending that everything is okay until it builds up so much that it bursts.  I don’t have to do that.  If I want something out of life then I have it in my power to make it happen.  So if I want to buy a place up at the lake, figure it out and make it happen.  If I want a new car consider all of the ramifications of that and make that decision.  If I want a boat by gosh then do the math.  Because that’s all that it is.  Everything has a price or a consequence to it.  All I have to do is figure it out and prioritize.  Unless of course I win the lottery or write a best seller.  In that case then I can go out and do it all in one day.  Oh wouldn’t that be fun.  Of course then I would decide that I need a Lear jet or a private island.

So, I have work to do and as therapeutic as this has been I need to go to bed.  I need to get up bright and early in the morning and get to work.  

I cannot wait!